AND so, in this at once amazing and simple way was solved the mystery of Godfrey Pavely's disappearance.

Inquiries made by the police soon elicited the fact that the Portuguese financier had told the truth as regarded his business in England, for a considerable number of persons voluntarily came forward to confirm the account the man had given of himself in his strange letter.

During his sojourn at the Mayfair Hotel, the now mysterious Fernando Apra had impressed those who came in contact with him pleasantly rather than otherwise. It was also remembered there that one morning, about three weeks ago, he had come in looking agitated and distressed, and that he had confided to the manager of the hotel that an accident of a very extraordinary nature had occurred to him. But there his confidences had stopped—he had not said what it was that had happened to him. A day or two later, he had gone away, explaining that his business in England was concluded.

Laura stayed up in town till the inquest, and so, rather to Laura's surprise, did Katty Winslow.

As is always the case when there is anything of the nature of a mystery, the inquest was largely attended by the ordinary public. But no sensational evidence was tendered, though person after person went into the witness-box to prove that they had come in contact with Fernando Apra, and that under a seal of secrecy he had informed them of his gambling concession and of the scheme for developing what he believed would be a hugely profitable undertaking. In fact, he had spoken to more than one man of business of a possible two hundred per cent. profit.

It also became clear, for the first time, why Mr. Pavely had gone to York. A gentleman who bore the aristocratic name of Greville Howard, and who was in too poor a state of health to come up to the inquest, volunteered the information that Fernando Apra had come to see him, Greville Howard, with an introduction from Mr. Godfrey Pavely. Further, that he, Mr. Howard, having gone into the matter of the proposed gambling concession, had suggested that the three should meet and have a chat over the business. As a result, a rather odd thing had happened. Mr. Apra did not accept the invitation, but Mr. Pavely, whom he had known for some years, had come to see him, and they had discussed the project. Then he, Greville Howard, had heard nothing more till he had seen in a daily paper a casual allusion to the fact of Mr. Godfrey Pavely's disappearance!

But, though so much was cleared up, two rather important questions remained unanswered. There was no proof, through any of the shipping companies, that Fernando Apra had left England under his own name. Also, while there were apparently several men of that same rather common name in Lisbon, the Portuguese police seemed unable to give any clue as to this particular man's identity. But a plausible explanation of this was to be found in the fact that Portugal had lately changed her form of government.

Though the mystery was now in no sense any longer a mystery, a rather peculiar verdict was returned. The foreman of the jury, a tiresome, self-opinionated man, declared that he and his fellow jurymen were not really satisfied as to how Godfrey Pavely had come by his death, and they added a strong rider to their verdict, expressing an earnest hope that every effort would be made to find Fernando Apra.

The inquest lasted two days, and as Laura insisted on being present the whole time, the ordeal for her was severe. She was, however, supported by the companionship and presence of Mrs. Tropenell, who had come up on purpose to be with her.

After having put Mrs. Tropenell and Laura in a carriage, Lord St. Amant and Sir Angus Kinross walked away from the building where the inquest had been held. For a while neither man said anything.

Then, suddenly, Lord St. Amant exclaimed: "I don't know what you think about it, but in spite of all we have heard, I can't help having a suspicion that that man Fernando Apra's story is a bit too thin. I take it that he and Pavely may have had a quarrel—it's even possible that this Portuguese fellow may have wanted to get Pavely out of this exceedingly profitable business. But no man, least of all a man accustomed to carrying firearms, would play about with a pistol quite close to the back of another man's head!"

"I've known stranger things than that happen," said Sir Angus slowly. "But in any case this Portuguese fellow is an uncommonly clever chap. He's clean covered up his tracks."

He hesitated a moment—and then added "I can tell you one queer thing, St. Amant. This man Pavely's pockets were very thoroughly gone through by whoever shot him. One side of his coat had the lining ripped open."

"Yet quite a good bit of money was found on him," observed Lord St. Amant.

"Whoever went through his pockets wasn't looking for money." Sir Angus spoke significantly.

He went on: "Though it was implied to-day that no papers or letters were discovered on the body, there was, as a matter of fact, an envelope found in an inner pocket. It was one of those inner pockets which some men have put into the inner lining of a waistcoat, the kind of pocket which is practically impossible to find—especially if you're in a hurry, and don't suspect its existence."

Lord St. Amant's curiosity was sharply aroused. He ventured a question: "And the contents of the envelope?"

"Well, between ourselves, the contents of the envelope astonished me very much. The envelope, stamped with the name of Pavely's Bank, contained two rather scurrilous anonymous letters. To me, the curious thing consisted in the fact that Pavely had thought it worth while to keep them. I should have destroyed them at once in his place."

"Do they throw any light on the mystery?"

"No, of course not, or they would have been produced in evidence to-day. But still, one never can tell. Of course we are keeping them." He added significantly, "They were not letters I should have cared to hand back to Mr. Pavely's widow."

And then the Commissioner of Police added something which very much surprised his companion: "By the way, talking of Mr. Pavely's widow, I do earnestly beg you to try and dissuade Mrs. Pavely from continuing that thousand pounds reward."

"Surely the reward has lapsed now? The only person entitled to it would be this man, Fernando Apra himself."

"Ah, but Mrs. Pavely—or so Mr. Tropenell tells me—is quite determined to keep the offer of the reward open. Whereas before the discovery of Mr. Pavely's body the reward was offered for any information leading to his discovery dead or alive, that same sum is now to be offered to any one who can bring us into communication with this Portuguese fellow himself. I'm bound to say that Mr. Tropenell saw at once all the inconvenience of such a course, and he has done his best to dissuade Mrs. Pavely. But she's quite set on it! I fancy she's been persuaded to go on with it by Mrs. Winslow."

"Ah!" said Lord St. Amant. "I can't say that that surprises me. Mrs. Winslow——"

Then he stopped short, and the other looked quickly round at him, and exclaimed: "I wish you'd tell me a little more than I've been able to find out about this Mrs. Winslow. What exactly was her position in the Pavely mÉnage?"

Lord St. Amant hesitated. He felt bound to stand up for poor Katty. So, "Only that she and poor Godfrey Pavely were very old friends—friends from childhood," he answered slowly. "And since the time she divorced her husband Mrs. Winslow has lived close to The Chase—in fact, she was their tenant."

"Then Mrs. Winslow was Pavely's rather than Mrs. Pavely's friend?"

"Yes—if you care to put it that way."

"I've very little doubt—in fact I feel quite sure, St. Amant, that Mrs. Winslow knows a great deal more about the whole affair than she has chosen to reveal. When she and I talked the whole thing over, I brought her to admit that she had heard something of this secret business arrangement between Pavely and Fernando Apra. But if she was speaking the truth—and I think she was—there was a reason for her having been told. She was herself investing a small sum in the concern."

"The devil she was!" Lord St. Amant was very much surprised.

"Yes, and on Pavely's advice, of course. I take it that he was on more confidential terms with this lady than he was with his own wife?"

The other nodded, reluctantly. "Well, you must know by this time almost as well as I did that the Pavelys were not on very—well, happy terms, together!"

Sir Angus went on: "D'you remember something I told you concerning Mr. Pavely's day at York? Even before we knew all you have heard to-day, we felt quite convinced that he'd gone down there to see the old rascal who calls himself Greville Howard. But some further information about that journey to York is in our possession."

Lord St. Amant again nodded. There came a rather uneasy look over his face. He thought he knew the nature of the further confidence which was about to be made to him. He had never had any doubt in his own mind that Godfrey Pavely had not gone alone to Yorkshire.

"We feel quite certain that Mrs. Winslow was with Pavely in York. He was seen there, in the company of a lady, by a business acquaintance. We've ascertained that Mrs. Winslow went, on that same day, to stay with some rather well-known people in the neighbourhood. Mind you, I'm not for a moment suggesting that there was anything wrong."

"I wonder," said Lord St. Amant suddenly, "why Mrs. Winslow still desires the reward to be offered."

"I think I can tell you why."

The Commissioner of Police looked straight into the other man's eyes. "Mrs. Winslow wishes this reward to be offered because she has vague hopes of earning it herself."

Lord St. Amant uttered an exclamation of extreme astonishment.

The other smiled. "Yes—queer, isn't it? But, mind you, that's by no means an uncommon trait in the type of woman to which Mrs. Winslow belongs. Their motives are almost always mixed. They're subtle little devils for the most part, St. Amant. Mrs. Winslow was quite sufficiently fond of this unfortunate man to wish to avenge his death, and she also would be very glad suddenly to receive an addition to her fortune—which is, I understand, very small—of even a thousand pounds."

He added, in a graver tone: "It seems to me that the one chance we have of influencing Mrs. Pavely is through you. And then again, the mere fact that you are one of her trustees may make a difference. Would you not have it in your power to prevent her continuing this reward?"

Lord St. Amant shook his head very decidedly. "No, I should not feel justified in doing that, even if I had the power. As a matter of fact, she has a certain amount of money at her own absolute disposal. I may tell you that I did my best to dissuade her from offering the reward when she first made up her mind to do so—you will remember when I mean?"

As Lord St. Amant made his way back to his own rooms, the rooms where he knew Mrs. Tropenell and Laura Pavely were now waiting for him, his mind was in a whirl of surprise and conjecture.

Katty Winslow acting the part of amateur detective? What an extraordinary notion! Somehow it was one which would never have crossed his mind. That, no doubt, was the real reason why she had been so determined to attend the inquest. But she had not sat with Mrs. Pavely, Mrs. Tropenell, and himself. She had chosen a place in a kind of little gallery behind the jurymen, and by her side, through the whole proceedings, had sat, with his arms folded, Oliver Tropenell.

Tropenell, since the discovery of Godfrey Pavely's body, had kept himself very much apart from the others. He had gone down to Pewsbury, and had broken the sad news to Mr. Privet—this by Laura's direct request and desire. But he had not shown even the discreet interest Lord St. Amant would have expected him to show in the newly-made widow and her affairs, and there was something enigmatic and reserved in his attitude.

One thing he had done. He had made a great effort to prevent Laura Pavely's being put into the witness-box. He had discovered that she shrank with a kind of agonised horror from the ordeal, and he had begged Lord St. Amant to join him in trying to spare her. But of course their efforts had been of no avail. Laura, in one sense, was the principal witness. But for her receipt of the letter, the body of her husband might not have been discovered for weeks, maybe for months. Fernando Apra would only have had to send a further instalment of rent, with the proviso that his room should not be entered till he returned, for the mystery to remain a mystery for at any rate a long time.

The funeral of Godfrey Pavely was to take place the next day in the old Parish Church of Pewsbury, where the Pavely family had a vault. The arrangements had all been left to Mr. Privet, and the only time Lord St. Amant had seen Oliver Tropenell smile since the awful discovery had been made, had been in this connection.

"I'm very glad we thought of it," he said, "I mean that Mrs. Pavely and myself thought of it. Poor old Privet! He was one of the very few people in the world who was ever really attached to Godfrey Pavely. And the fact that all the arrangements have been left to him is a great consolation, not to say pleasure, to the poor old fellow."